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#family is complicated
whatwouldmickeydo · 8 months
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Minor headcanon: there is a framed copy of Terry Milkovich's death certificate on the wall of apartment 218.
A week after he dies, they receive a small stack of Terry’s death certificates in the mail, intended for providing proof to businesses and other places that might need it.
Mickey snatches one, finds a dusty frame in the back of their closet and puts it in, sticks it on an empty nail by the front door that’s been waiting for a picture. It’s a celebration that this bastard is finally gone, a reminder every day that there’s proof he’s dead and buried, something he can look at and know that he’s no longer there to cast a shadow over their lives.
And it’s exactly that, an excellent memento that he flips off almost every morning before they leave the house.
Ian wakes to the sound of broken glass and a bitten off curse. He walks out to their darkened living room with just the light of the moon streaming in through the window to see the frame on the ground, glass littering the floor, and Mickey clutching a bloody fist, eyes glassy with held back tears.
There’s blood dripping onto the ground and he’s quick to grab a wash cloth and the first aid kit, guiding Mickey gently but firmly onto a chair in the kitchen so he can patch him up.
He can hear Mickey’s breathing, the slight hitch in it every so often as he tries not to let the feelings overtake him.
He’s thankful he’s letting him clean him up rather than pulling away and storming out, a trail of red running out the door.
“Fuck him. Fuckin’ piece of shit.” He hears Mickey mumble as he’s putting the last bandage on, looks up to see those beautiful blues finally leaking tears.
“Thought I’d be over this shit already. He’s fuckin’ dead, why am I still fucked up about this, man?”
All he can do is pull him up and wrap his arms around him, hand coming up to cradle the back of his head. Mickey’s injured hand hangs by his side but his other one comes up to clutch at the back of his sleep shirt, face pressing into his chest. He can feel the front of his shirt becoming wet with tears.
He’s not sure how long they stand there in their darkened kitchen but eventually Mickey sniffs and breaks away.
“Gotta clean up the rest of the glass.”
They work together to get the broom and the dust pan out, dumping the frame and the broken pieces into the trash can. All that’s left is the death certificate.
Ian picks it up, heart clenching at the way Mickey flinches when he sees it.
“C’mon,” Ian says, leading the way towards their balcony.
He grabs a lighter on his way onto the balcony, turns to see Mickey following him out.
There’s a look of confusion and then his face clears and he gets it, takes the offered lighter and the paper.
He sighs, then brings the certificate up and lights a corner. It burns slowly, then quicker, the flame running over the edges until it’s reduced to almost nothing. He let’s it go, leaning into Ian’s hand as he rubs at the back of his neck, both of them watching as the rest of it burns itself out in the wind, the ashes fluttering to the ground below them.
“Fuck you, Terry.”
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cats-depression-diary · 5 months
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I love how my mom is like no we’re a perfectly normal family, but the second she leaves the house no one fights anymore and we all leave our rooms. But yeah sure I’m the problem mom
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hpitt13 · 4 months
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theycallmeaspen · 1 year
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Someone being a family member does not make them hurting you okay. Just because you share blood it does not give them the right to spill yours.
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I made the mistake of talking about the unspoken.
If you are a daughter, and you have a mother, you know what it is.
The thing.
The slimy uncomfortably object not materialized that can never be said out loud to each other, or else it will become truth.
it's true. you're sure of it. you've been talking about it quiet as the mouses, in the kitchen, trying to find barely there crumbs with your sister ever since you both been old enough to see the same pain in each others eyes.
The house was shook.
I cried, accidentally, which made everything worse.
Mother told her piece.
but then again, has she ever not said her piece?
I said sorry.
i was not sorry, but there is no reason to extend something that i know will not lead to anything but pain. only for me
She went to bed.
I did the same. There is no use in crying for the spilled milk.
there is no use in crying for a pain that will never go away because the cause simply cannot understand how it can hurt someone in the first place
Can the boogeyman ever go away if we pretend that is not under the bed?
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bloomblossoms · 2 years
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We are trapped, we can't escape the hold coz we are so dependent on them for our everything. But everyday i wish i would be free, live a life all by me. And i would never be like them, i am not them i am better. I will never let my daughter cry to sleep.
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Maybe i am happy;)
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lifeinkinder · 11 months
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My mother barely interacted with me during my pregnancy. Barely even acknowledged it really. When delivery was scheduled, she and my sister arranged for her to come without talking to me. She stayed for maybe 2-3 hours afterward before going home again. She never visited or even asked to visit for the 4 weeks we were living at RMH.
Now though shes volunteering to babysit. To be my backup childcare provider. To take vacation when Little Man has his full repair so she can keep Squish so I don't have to worry about it.
Like hold up, whoa. Do you remember the literal years we barely spoke? The way that it took my sister telling you how hurt I was that you didn't acknowledge my pregnancy for you to say something. Like you don't get to call yourself grandma and tell people about the twins and show them pictures and CARE when you haven't seemed to give a shit before now.
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radioprinz · 1 year
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Darius visits his dear uncle. You can see his discomfort in every scene.
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frnkieroismydaddy · 1 year
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The worst part about being estranged from your abusive family members other than like, the abuse and trauma and what that does to your mental health and all the rest, is not being able to get nepotism benefits.
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remyxavier · 3 months
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I have such a difficult relationship with my family as I am the only one in my family that feels emotion, apparently, since they have made sure to call me "sensitive", "over-emotional", and "unstable" my entire life which has, unsurprisingly, negatively affected me as an adult. So my family doesn't talk to me much and then blames it on me, even though I often try to strike up conversation and get little to no responses back (my Dad did actually text me 2 weeks ago, which was really exciting, but it turns out he meant to text someone else, so that sucked). I'm 31 now, so I'm very tired from all of this, so I have just stopped trying, fuck what they say to each other about me. That I'm "flaky" and "unreliable". But one of my sisters will randomly text me a bunch and I won't respond, then she'll start messaging me on Facebook, and then start texting my wife. All she wants to do is ask me about the family, why I'm not speaking to them (as if it's my fault) and then talk about herself. And then we go a long period of time without talking again, then repeat.
I just want to be left alone.
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fretbored34 · 1 year
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And then there are uncles who are murderers 🤷‍♀️
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chrisevansdaughter · 1 year
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Rant- weight is mentioned, surgery is mentioned and a shit family dynamic is mentioned.
I feel like having family that complain when you say your not hungry but then complain but tell you the calories too and make comments about you when you do eat and how you look is such a toxic cycle and the whole reason I am how I am with food and my body because I was the fat kid and now I’m not it’s just still a stressful cycle to the point I avoid eating with my family or around them because it’s the little digs about everything. I’m self conscious of my eyes because I had double squint surgery when I was younger and it hasn’t really stayed very well in my left eye so when I’m tired it goes and that is one of the things that we do joke about but then just isn’t funny when it’s mentioned all the time and I hate my family for it. But then “I’m too moody” or “I complain too much” or it’s “I’m sick of your complaining” about anything when I say it’s gone too far and I’m sick of it :(
Sorry guys I just needed to rant about this because it’s always happening and I’m annoyed and I’m just numb to it now but still love you all 🙂
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animusignus · 1 year
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I feel that post Lazarus Pit | Jay would have been very into Teenagers and Welcome to My Life, or at the very least, they were part of his patrol playlist at some point.
With a little of I Pray for You sprinkled over it.
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suryanwesha · 1 year
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Me: I don't like interacting with people, specially my family members. Is it my fault?
My brother: yes.
Then he proceeded to say, "you are not the body, you are the soul."
I was like, "yes, I don't like your soul."
Him: your fault. You can and should change it.
Me: Your argument is irrelevant. I am not changing myself.
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Sisterhood can not be defined.
I will fight with her until the end of times, screaming matches since we were little about nonsense - but if a god hurts her i will learn how to kill a immortal.
How could i not? She has the same scars, same inherited pain. We may not look alike, but we have the same reflection. We are made from the same fabric of flesh, same mesh of DNA.
She is a piece of me. I am one of hers. We are neither, we are both.
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marsmokii · 1 year
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not to be fucking sad or anything but how heartbreaking it is to know that your mom loves you, but does not like you
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